


The never ending war

by madridog (FakeCirilla9)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Enemies, Love/Hate, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/madridog
Summary: A story inspired by the two teams riding from a match together in one bus. How the travel after the el Clásico of 18.12.2019 may looked like
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	The never ending war

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was started nearly a year ago; I finally dusted it off and finished. Enjoy!

"...wondering half the game what's wrong with his beard."

Isco coughed.

"Hah, you've noticed it too, right?" Sergio did not took the hint as Isco intended it. The younger Spaniard was now doing some very strange faces containing of meaningful gazes and quirks of eyebrows. But since it was Isco, Sergio didn't see anything out of his usual self and continued unhindered: "it's like he tried to colour it but something went wrong or the dye was outdated or he was allergic and it dried the hair off instead of colouring them. HEY!"

The last bit was directed at an unseen someone who pushed him. Turning and seeing Piqué only made matters worse. The two defenders stood against each other far too close, intruding each other's intimate space as they did pretty much any time they've met.

No wonder the gossips had it that the tension was not solely sport (or politics) related. It was far too physical for that. But it went on for so many years it was far from an intriguing piece of news. And now they were blocking the passage in the middle of the bus, getting in the way of both Real and Barça players as the Covid situation demanded both teams rode together. Security came before UEFA regulations.

A much smaller figure slid in between the tall players. Messi put a hand at Geri's chest.

"Leave it," he said softly.

Sergio only now belatedly understood Isco's strange miens. But he would be damned if he admitted to a fault in front of his enemy. Not that it was a fault. Messi's beard from up close was even more ridiculous.

"Seriously, man, you should shave."

"And leave only a creepy mustache as some? I don't think so."

Piqué snickered. Ramos bristled.

"You're still most handsome, capi," Modrić came to the rescue, lightening the atmosphere, "among your age that is. And after Cris left."

"And after you don't have that yellow hair anymore, speaking of failed dying," put in Geri, clearly dissatisfied others steal Sergio's attention from him.

"So you also think this is failed dying" remarked Ramos, poking Messi with his finger in the jaw.

"Could you not do this," growled Leo. 

"You started it." Sergio remained obstinate.

"How? You were the one who begun the talk about facial hair." Irritated, Leo tried to swat Sergio's fingers away.

The captain of Real Madrid grabbed Leo's hand and put it to his own cheek.

"And for your information, there is still stubble. Feel it."

"Could you all guys sit on your asses?" The microphone enhanced voice of Zidane cracked, "the driver says he will not set off with you all behaving worse than a school trip."

They all reluctantly took their seats, recalled to the present and not the safest surrounding of fans frustrated by a scoreless match and some of them hostile due to sociopolitical matters.

The forced peace did not last long.

Geri (ignoring his captain's warning look) nudged Sergio until the Andalusian looked back.

"What–?"

"So did they order you to shave it for the new Nivea commercial? The one with _sensitive_ men."

Sergio ignored Luka's attempts of keeping him shut up.

"So you watch me even in commercials?"

"Hard not to when I see your face at every second banner besides a highway."

"At least I don't screen fake family dinners with eating broccoli. Or talk kids into eating Lay's."

"Because Pepsi's so much healthier," pointed out Messi, attentive despite staring at his phone.

"Are you twitting?" Sergio attacked from the easiest side, "leave something to Piqué or he will be disappointed."

"Good that you remind me. That card you've saw today should be red."

"Oh yeah? Same goes for– whoever it was that tackled Gareth."

Lenglet looked at them and then at Bale, concerned.

"Don't make me laugh," Gerard opposed. "He fell himself."

"Yea, right. I wouldn't be surprised if he got concussion from that 'intentional' fall."  
  
Gareth leaned out from his sit in the front.

"I'm all right."

The young Barça player looked relieved at that. Sergio and Geri barely noticed they had one less subject to argue about. 

"And if the referee wasn't yours, we'd have won one zero today."

Luka stood up suddenly stepping over Ramos' tattooed legs. 

"Where are you going? Mister said no walking, eh?"

"I'm going for a more amenable company. Gareth, you got some place there? He's all yours," the last words were directed at Piqué.

That left the two defenders speechless.

"Go on," Messi broke the silence, pushing Geri a little. "Use your chance. You can have your usual exchange of opinions live instead of clogging up Twitter and annoying your managers."

Sergio moved nearer the window, to the place abandoned by Luka.

But Geri still sat undecided, so Sergio pushed the rear of his sit back and peered at him – nearly crushing Leo's legs in the process. Barcelona's captain hissed.

"Ramos, I've got enough of you being clingy during the game. Leave me alone at least afterwards."

"Oh, come on, you like it when I hug you after each game. You only just play so shy and hard to get."

"I was talking about tackles," Leo gritted out.

"Dude, release him" Geri pushed at the seat, brushing Sergio's arm in a well planned accident.

"Jealous much?"

"Over you? Don't be ridiculous."

Geri didn't even realize how close his and Sergio's faces came until Leo cleared his throat somewhere above them. 

"Could you move it if not to a hotel room, then at least to another seat?"

After a second's of hesitation, Geri did as he bade, switching his places to sit next to Ramos.

"What are you doing?" The captain of Real Madrid asked indignantly, as Piqué leaned over him, one hand fumbling near Sergio's hip. 

"Defending my captain," Gerard explained. 

"A knight in shining armor complex? We are not on the pitch anymore-whoah!" The last word turned into a surprised yelp as the bus seat sprung up, returning to its straight position and crushing Sergio into Geri.

"If you wanted to snuggle, you could just say so," Sergio smirked.

Gerard narrowed his eyes at him but then played along: "That's not such a bad idea, actually. I could use some sleep."

"Be my guest," Ramos outstretched his arm in an inviting gesture, continuing with the charade.

He didn't expect Geri to actually take on the invitation but the black haired man rested his head on his shoulder, lowering himself in the seat. Since he did, Sergio could not step back on his offer. He will not cower from the other player, not on the pitch and not in any other aspect of life.

"You're much more comfortable than Leo," muttered Geri.

"I've heard that," came the voice from behind them.

Piqué twisted around.

"Hey, you were the one who sent me here and you can enjoy two seats now in full space thanks to me."

Ramos pulled him back where he had been.

"You wanted to get some rest. Don't wriggle so much or your pillow will get impatient."

"Is that your version of a pillow talk?" Geri mocked, not moving from his place anymore, however.

"My version of a pillow talk–"

"Not everyone wants to hear that," Rakitić called out from somewhere.

"You're welcome to put on your headphones," Ramos bit back.

"Stop screaming in my ear, will you?" Geri fought to regain Sergio's sole attention.

Sergio inclined his head so his mouth came right next to Piqué's lobe.

"That was not in your ear. This is."

Geri shuddered when a hot breath brushed him. 

Sergio got a hellish idea.

"So about that pillow talk, are you still interested?"

"Oh yeah, you think you could make me hot with words only?"

"Sure." Ramos still whispered in his ear. "You would lose if the referee was not at your side."

"What a ridiculous notion, you thought long about it?"

"Since I got it some time after the game started."

"Everyone knows it's your club that buys decisions favourable to them!"

"You live in your own little world of schemes and conspiracy theories against you. You can't accept that you simply suck as a defender."

"And you–" Piqué's words were muffled by Ramos' fingers.

"See? You're instantly heated up."

Geri snarled and Sergio jerked his hand away.

"Fuck, that hurt!" He exclaimed, examining a bitten finger.

"You deserved it. You cheat like on the pitch."

"But it worked, didn't it?"

"You're terrible."

"And you're a savage. Look what you did." He thrust his hand in Geri's face. "There's a _bite mark_."

Barcelona's player grabbed his hand.

"Don't exaggerate, the skin isn't even broken."

"You can see the actual marks of your teeth if you look closely."

Piqué did.

"No," he judged. "I can't see anything but the ink of tattoos."

Ramos jerked his hand away.

"Sure. Like you can't see a tackle when one of your teammate is at fault."

"Remind me, how many cards Barça got and how many Real received today? Three to five, am I right?"

"That's just proves who bought the referee," Sergio shrugged.

They argued in hushed voices until the exhaustion defeated them both. This time it was Ramos who dozed off against Piqué's shoulder and Geri, ignoring Rakitić's eye roll, let his head fell against the light brown hair, hoping that no one will take any pictures.

**Author's Note:**

> The story was supposed to be Ramos/Messi since they post so many inspirational stuff about the two captains before each el Clásico. But Piqué didn't let me. Blame him, not me.


End file.
